


The Prodigal Wolf

by Wolfling



Series: The Sword of Damocles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post season 3a, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was six months after Derek left Beacon Hills that Stiles drove by the Hale loft and noticed a light on inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prodigal Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be one quick Derek comes back and Stiles talks with him stand-alone scene, then it grew a second scene and a third and by that time I realized that it was actually the first story in a larger series and it was all downhill from there. It's been a long while since I had a plot bunny grow that many teeth that quickly.
> 
> While this can be read as gen, it is definitely in my mind preslash (hence the m/m category). That's where we're heading, just haven't got there yet.

It was six months after Derek left Beacon Hills that Stiles drove by the Hale loft and noticed a light on inside. 

It didn't necessarily mean it was Derek, he told himself even as he parked the jeep and got out. It was even odds that it was someone else moved in. Hell, the way his luck ran, it would not only be not Derek, but the next big monster that would want to eat him or sacrifice him or something new and equally bad for his well being. That thought had him pausing long enough to pull out the bat he always kept in his backseat, but it didn't actually stop him from entering the building and heading upstairs.

On the way up, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Scott just in case: _Checking out D's loft. If you don't hear from me in an hour, I'll need either rescuing or avenging._

He got a reply by the time he reached the door. Scott had got a lot better at answering texts since he became Alpha. _Trouble?_

 _Not sure-_ he was typing back when the door opened, nearly giving Stiles a heart attack. He jumped back, dropping his phone and raising his bat...

To find himself face to face with a very bemused Derek. 

"Jeez! Don't do that!" Stiles snapped, slowly lowering the bat. 

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't answer the door?"

"Not before I knock! There's this whole etiquette -- someone comes to your door and knocks and _then_ you answer it. Not that I'm surprised you don't know this, considering you think crawling through windows like a great big creeper is the proper way to visit people." He stopped when he noticed that Derek was actually _smiling_. 

"It's good to see you, Stiles."

Without thinking about it, Stiles raised the bat again. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Derek?"

Derek rolled his eyes and reached out and grabbed the bat, yanking it out of Stiles grip. Then he turned and walked back into the loft, but left the door open for Stiles.

Okay, that was a little more like the Sour Wolf Stiles knew and grudgingly liked. He picked up his phone from where he'd dropped it and followed Derek inside.

The place hadn't changed from the last time Stiles had been there. It was still as spartan as ever, but still a major step up from Derek's previous haunts. Derek had dropped Stiles' bat on the couch and moved over to the window and was looking outside. 

"So, when did you get back? Is Cora with you?" Stiles asked as he texted Scott, _The prodigal wolf has returned!_

"A few hours ago." Derek looked over his shoulder at Stiles. "No, she's not. "

Stiles frowned, that ever present feeling of menace intensifying. "Is she- I mean, she's alright, isn't she?"

"She's fine," Derek said, his expression softening a little. "We ran into a pack our family had ties with before... Before. She's spending some time with some friends she was close to when she was a kid."

"That's... good," Stiles said, relaxing at the answer. It was nice to occasionally be wrong about something bad happening."

"Yeah, it is. It's nice to see her be happy." Derek turned fully away from the window, facing Stiles now. "You been keeping an eye on the place?"

"Yeah, kinda," Stiles admitted. "I mean, it's not like we've been staking the loft out 24 hours a day or anything. But yeah, when I happen to drive by I give the place a once over." He didn't add that he found excuses to drive by every few days. Or that those drives were part of the almost nightly patrols he'd taken to doing.

"With a bat?" And if Stiles didn't know better, he'd think Derek was teasing him.

"Haven't we had that discussion before? Some people don't have claws and fangs and have to make do with misusing sporting equipment."

His phone vibrated and he looked down to see Scott's reply. _Derek's back?_

He was typing back _Isn't that what I just said?_ when Derek said, "Tell Scott I'll come see him tomorrow."

Stiles looked up and frowned at him. "How did you know I was texting Scott?"

"He's your best friend," Derek said with a shrug. "And he's the Alpha."

There was something about the way Derek said that. It was matter of fact, calm and accepting, and that was far different than what Stiles would have predicted he'd sound like talking about Scott's Alpha-ness... It made Stiles stare at Derek, feeling like he was a puzzle he had to solve. Just when he thought he'd figured him out...

"That doesn't bother you?" he asked.

Derek shrugged again. "I was there when he claimed his power, Stiles. I'd never seen or felt anything like it. I'm not delusional enough to deny the obvious."

"I was thinking less denial and more bitterness and resentment," Stiles pointed out. "Considering that you... uh..."

"Gave up being an Alpha to save my sister?" Again, Derek's wry tone wasn't what Stiles would have expected considering the subject matter. 

"Yeah. I mean we're all obviously happy you were able to save Cora, but giving all that up and then having to see Scott embrace his inner Alpha can't have been easy," Stiles said, trying to feel out exactly what he was missing here.

Derek didn't answer right away, and went back to looking out the window. The silence went on for long enough that Stiles was having to fight the urge to fidget or say something, anything to break it. "It was though," Derek finally said. "It's probably the easiest decision I've made in years."

Stiles felt himself frowning again. "But..."

Now Derek did glance over at him. "But?"

"That doesn't make any sense. You've been all rah rah Alpha, join me, obey me, I'm the Alpha since you levelled up." He paused. "Actually you were pretty much like that even before, but once you made with the red eyes you got exponentially worse."

"Do you have a point?" Derek asked with a sigh.

Stiles shrugged. "Just, being Alpha seemed to mean a lot to you."

Again, Derek didn't answer right away, staring out at the night. Finally he turned around to face Stiles and asked, "Do you think I was a good Alpha?"

"Hey, it's not like I am really in a position to give an opinion on that," Stiles said, taking a step back physically as he did his best to verbally dodge the question.

"That's never stopped you having an opinion before," Derek pointed out truthfully, then adding in a softer voice, "And you're in a better position than most."

Stiles wasn't going to think about that too closely. "You were... less psychotically homicidal than most of the other Alphas I've had the horrible displeasure of meeting," he finally said, because seriously, that had become a really disturbing theme in Stiles' life.

Derek didn't actually wince but it was obvious he wanted to. "If the best you can say is I wasn't an insane killer-"

"That's not what I meant," Stiles interrupted. "Just that I haven't really had many positive Alpha experiences to which to compare. I'm just the stupid human that keeps finding himself in the middle of all this werewolf supernatural crap. I'm not really the best qualified for making the kind of judgement you're asking for-"

"Stiles."

"You tried, okay?" Stiles finally blurted out. "Yeah, you had a habit of making really bad decisions and your people skills are not so much rusty as nonexistent which tended to make bad situations even worse, but you tried. And even when I thought you were dead wrong I had to give you points for that. You tried."

Derek blew his breath out in a sigh. "I tried, but I still sucked as an Alpha." He glanced over at Stiles again. "That's the fact we both know you're verbally dancing around saying." He paused. "Thanks, by the way."

"I told you," Stiles said, holding up his hands, "I'm not judging."

"Well I am. I never wanted to be the Alpha, not when I was a kid and not... After." Stiles could hear the capital on the word, just as he'd been able to hear it on the word Before earlier, would've been able to even if he didn't know Derek was talking about the fire that killed almost his entire family. "I only took the power because there was, literally, no one else who could. I was the only one left. If I took it there was a least a chance there could be a pack again, that things could get better.

"And I sucked at it. I got people hurt, people killed because I wasn't good enough. I was never meant to be Alpha and it showed." He met Stiles' eyes. "You don't have to keep dodging around saying that."

That was way more self aware than Stiles ever thought Derek was capable of being. "You weren't completely bad at it," he found himself saying because he knew what it was like to know you sucked at something important and it wasn't a good feeling. "You didn't get everyone killed," he blurted out and then winced because that was way beyond damning with faint praise. "I mean, there were lots of times you saved people with your badass Alpha self so...."

Derek didn't seem to take either offense or encouragement from Stiles' babbling. He just raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is Scott a good Alpha?" which pulled Stiles up short.

"Scott's Scott," he finally said. "He's been my best friend since kindergarten and that's always going to be what I see when I look at him -- my friend." He shrugged self consciously. "My brother. The Alpha thing barely registers next to that."

Derek's mouth twitched up just slightly. "You're dodging the question, which means either the answer is he's really really bad at being an Alpha or he's really really-"

"Fine!" Stiles said, throwing his hands up. "He's good! He's great! He's the Alphiest Alpha that ever Alphaed! Happy?"

Silence for a long moment then Derek said, "Really."

"No, not really," Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even know what I just said means. He's just... Scott. Just with a little more presence and a more conscientious sense of responsibility."

Stiles' phone pinged and he looked down to see another message from Scott. _Tell D it's good to have him back._ Snorting with amusement, Stiles held it out to Derek. "It's for you."

Derek read the message, then silently handed the phone back to Stiles.

"Okay," Stiles said. "He's a good Alpha." He paused, but continued before Derek could say anything. "He's right too -- it's good to have you back. Why are you back, anyway? I mean, no judging, like I said, it's great to have you back, but last time we saw you, you were going off on some kind of journey of self-reflection and discovery with your sister. I would've thought that would take a lot longer than six months."

Derek shrugged again and left the window, moving over to sit on the couch. "Leaving had started to feel like running. I've done enough of that in my life already."

"Running's a valid survival strategy, I'll have you know." Stiles sat down beside him.

"Survival maybe, but not living."

"I'll give you that," Stiles said, surprised a little. Derek had never been someone he expected be in any way philosophical.

"And," Derek continued hesitantly, "it felt like I _had_ to come back."

That sharpened Stiles' attention considerably. "What do you mean?"

Derek shrugged. "It was just a feeling."

"Yeah, but what sort of feeling? Was it the weigh out all your options, pros and cons and then feel like your best choice is coming back or was it more like the pied piper of Hamlin is calling and I have to go feeling?"

That earned him a patented Derek glare. "Wolf, not rat."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Stop picking apart my metaphors and just answer the question."

"I don't know. It was just a feeling -- I'd think about Beacon Hills and I'd just feel like I had to come back. Like-"

"Like maybe you were being drawn here?" Stiles finished for him.

"Yeah. Sort of. Maybe." Derek frowned at him. "Why?"

Stiles let out a sigh and slumped back into the couch cushions. The feeling of menace was back stronger than ever. "The spell that Scott, Allison and I did to find our parents when the Darach had kidnapped them? Deaton said it pumped energy back into the Nemeton. That it was going to pull all sorts of supernatural shit here."

"And you think it pulled me?" Derek was still frowning at him.

"Well, you are a werewolf and you already have a connection to Beacon Hills so... yeah. Seems a logical conclusion." Stiles just had no idea what that meant for them.

"So what does that mean?" Derek asked, echoing Stiles inner voice.

He sighed, forcing down his trepidation and trying to think about it all logically. "Guess it all depends. Are you having any other 'feelings' now that you're here? Are you feeling drawn to go running out to a certain big old tree stump?"

"No."

"Any urges to wolf out and go on a bloody rampage through the middle of town?"

Derek glared at him. "No."

"Hey, I'm just asking," Stiles said, holding his hands up defensively. "It's not like I want the answer to be yes. I'd like to avoid as many bloody rampages as I can."

"Look, all I can tell you is I felt like it was time to come back. Like... this is where I'm supposed to be. It's almost like..." Derek trailed off without finishing.

Stiles leaned forward. "Almost like what?" he prodded. 

Derek looked down at his hands as he answered. "Like pack calling me home."

"Huh." That made as much sense as it being the Nemeton's fault and Stiles liked the implications of that a whole hell of a lot better. "Let's go with that as an explanation because I like it way more than scary druid tree of power is fucking with your mind."

"Maybe." Derek was still looking down at his hands. "But it's still... problematic."

"How?" A thought occurred to Stiles. "You don't think Scott put an Alpha whammy on you or something do you? Because he would never..." He trailed off when he saw the way Derek was looking at him.

"Alpha whammy?" Derek repeated. "Really?"

"Well I don't know! You werewolves keep pulling out new and freaky shit that you do. An Alpha whammy isn't that far fetched."

"It really, really is," Derek told him.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Fine. No whammies. But if there aren't any whammies, what's the problem?"

Derek was back to staring at his own hands. "My... status."

"Your status." Nope, repeating didn't make it any clearer. 

"I never acknowledged Scott as Alpha, but I have ties to wolves in his pack. And I'm a former Alpha. It makes things... awkward."

"What, you worried Scott's going to take your presence as a challenge or something?" Stiles blinked. "Dude, it's _Scott_."

"Instincts-"

"It's _Scott_ ," Stiles repeated. "His instincts are to try and protect everyone and that includes your dumb ass. So unless you are actually planning on challenging him for his Alphaness-"

"Don't be an idiot."

"Then your 'status' isn't going to be any kind of issue," Stiles finished. He turned more towards Derek and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he met Derek's gaze earnestly. "I _know_ Scott. If you want to officially join the pack, he'll be totally fine with it. If you don't and just want to be, like, friendly allies, he's not going to push it. Just talk to him and you'll see."

Derek didn't say anything to that, just continued to sit quietly on the couch wearing that grumpy brooding expression Stiles had become so familiar with. 

Regardless of how familiar the silent brooding was, Stiles was very aware that Derek had been more talkative and forthcoming since Stiles walked through his door tonight than, well, ever. It was a nice change.

And it wasn't just the willingness to share that was different; now that he had a chance to just look, Stiles thought Derek looked more relaxed, more at ease in his own skin and less like he was holding himself braced for an inevitable blow. Although, given their conversation, maybe that hadn't vanished entirely.

"It's good to see you," Stiles heard himself say before he consciously thought about speaking. Oh well. He was used to his mouth sometimes getting ahead of his brain and it wasn't like it wasn't true. "I mean, I'm glad you went on your little walkabout, it obviously did you some good because you look better than I've ever seen you. Not that you looked terrible before or anything -- except when you did, which okay, was a lot of the time, let's be honest here-"

"Stiles," Derek growled, but it sounded more amused and less threatening than Stiles was used to hearing Derek say his name.

"See that right there," Stiles said, pointing at Derek. "That's what I've been missing -- someone to growl at me when I start babbling like an idiot."

Derek rolled his eyes and hey, look, no more sullen brooding. Stiles mentally patted himself on the back for that. "Not that it actually works at getting you to stop."

"We all have our innate talents," Stiles said loftily. "You can grow fangs and claws, I can babble in any situation for any length of time I need to."

"Don't you have a curfew or something?"

"Yep!" Stiles grinned. "But since my Dad now is in the know on the whole supernatural weirdness that is our lives, I have a werewolf business exception." He gestures at Derek. "You're a werwolf, I'm talking to you, it's an exception."

That got him another grumpy eye roll, which just made Stiles grin all the bigger. He stood up and stretched. "But you're right in that I probably should be getting home. As homework does not come with a werewolf business exception and I have a paper that's due first period tomorrow I still need to finish." He scooped up his bat from where Derek had dropped it as he headed for the door. 

He paused before he opened it however and turned back to Derek. "Just so you know, there's lacrosse practice tomorrow so Scott and I won't be able to come over until after that."

"Scott... and you," Derek repeated, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows judgmentally at him.

Stiles refused to be judged. "Dude, you are like the poster boy for repressed and taciturn and, while he's been getting better at sharing, Scott still has problems relaying all the important details of something so it's better for all concerned if I'm just here to see for myself. Plus," he continued loftily, "I'm _awesome_ at imparting information so I can then tell everyone else who needs to know what happened."

*****

"So I'm coming with you," Stiles said after lacrosse practice.

Scott looked up from where he was packing up his stuff. "Coming with me where?"

Stiles made a scoffing noise as he closed his locker and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. "Please. You're going over to Derek's. You know it, I know it, the entire pack knows it, probably even Deaton and my dad know it, so don't even try to pretend otherwise."

"I wasn't trying to pretend," Scott said, then sighed as Stiles just gave him the Look. He hefted his own backpack and fell into step beside Stiles as they headed out of the locker room. "Okay, maybe I was, but it's still... weird."

"The whole Alpha thing?" 

"Yeah." Scott glanced at him with the ghost of a grateful smile, like there was ever a time Stiles couldn't figure out what Scott was thinking about. "Most of the time, it's not that bad, it's business as usual, just with this added awareness of everyone. And everything. But this, this is...."

"Weird," Stiles finished for him.

"Yeah."

"Why?" Stiles asked, though he had a pretty good idea of what the general answer was probably going to be. But sometimes it helped if he made Scott focus his thoughts enough to articulate them.

Scott shrugged and didn't answer until they'd cleared the school and were heading into the parking lot. "It's like the first real official Alpha type thing I've had to do. That isn't basically something I was doing before, I mean."

"So you're saying that if Derek had left and come back before, you wouldn't go and say, 'hi, welcome back?'" Stiles shook his head. "Nice, Scott."

"Of course I would've! But it wouldn't have been so... official. It means something more now."

They stopped beside Stiles' jeep and Stiles just stared at Scott for a long moment. "Dude, it's _Derek_." And didn't he just have this conversation with Derek about Scott the night before?

"Exactly!" Scott flailed a little in a way that was much more Stiles' purview than his. "It's Derek, who was born a werewolf and grew up as one and probably knows all the customs and things an Alpha is supposed to do when welcoming someone back."

And that, that was just an insane thing to be worried about, considering this was _Derek_ they were talking about. "I'm sorry," Stiles said. "Were you under the impression you were going to a meeting with the Miss Manners of Werewolf Etiquette? I'll remind you again -- this is _Derek Hale_. Whose methods of communicating over the years have featured large amounts of glaring, growling, and shoving people into things while threatening to rip their throats out. If there's a secret Alpha ceremony I don't think he got let in on it."

Scott made a face. "It's going to be awkward."

"Of course it's going to be awkward," Stiles agreed. "That's why you need me along. I'm a champion at random babbling during awkward conversations so that everyone looks much less awkward in comparison. You of all people know this, Scott."

Scott sighed and Stiles could see his posture relaxing a little and he knew that he'd got his way even before Scott capitulated with a wave of his hand and a muttered, "Fine. You can come."

"Great!" Stiles unlocked his jeep and threw his backpack in. "Get in, I'll drive." He held up a hand. "And before you say anything, I promise I'll drop you off back here after so you can ride your bike home. Deal?"

"You're just afraid I'll ditch you if we don't ride together," Scott said, even as he went around to the other side and opened the passenger door.

"Would you?" Stiles asked, honestly curious, as they both climbed inside and settled themselves.

Scott didn't answer for a moment. "Maybe," he finally said grudgingly.

Stiles grinned as he started the engine. "Then I'm not going to apologize for the precautions."

They were halfway there before Scott stirred and spoke again. "I don't want to screw this up."

Stiles took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Scott. "Why do you think you're going to?" 

"Derek and I, we don't exactly have a really great track record at communicating."

"No shit, Sherlock," Stiles snorted. "Though, to be fair, that is probably about only twenty percent on you and the other eighty is on Grumpy Wolf."

"Still," Scott continued, "I don't want this to end up being another one of those times where we end up arguing or even fighting."

"Then don't let it."

Scott grimaced. "It's not that simple."

"Pretty sure it is," Stiles replied. They had just pulled up to a red light so Stiles turned to actually look at Scott as he continued. "It takes two to tango, Scott. Or fight. If you decide you're not going to, that's at least half the battle right there."

Scott was silent for a bit, still grimacing, then finally he sighed. "I still don't think it's that simple, but I'll try."

"Do or do not, there is no try," Stiles told him in his best Yoda voice, then ducked the half-hearted punch to the arm Scott threw. 

"Seriously," he continued as the light turned green and he started them moving again, "I don't think you have to worry. Derek... he seems different. Like he maybe got some of his shit together on his little walkabout. Last night he seemed generally worried about your reaction to his being back. Like he wants to get along. If you don't start something, I'm pretty sure he isn't going to."

"I hope you're right." Scott heaved another sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. 

"Haven't we gone over that before?" Stiles asked, only half joking. "I'm _always_ right."

When they got to Derek's, Stiles pulled the jeep into the same parking spot he'd used the night before. This time though he left the bat in the backseat when he headed inside with Scott.

Derek also let them knock on the door before he opened it this time, although the speed in which that happened after Scott knocked made Stiles think he'd been standing there waiting.

Derek and Scott looked at each other for a long moment before Derek gave the barest of nods. "Scott." His gaze slid over to Stiles before moving back to Scott. "Stiles."

"Derek," Scott replied, pleasantly enough, but without moving or looking away.

Stiles rolled his eyes at all the wolf posturing. "Great, now that we've got roll call over with, can we come in?"

That got Derek to look away from Scott and to step back enough to let them step inside. Once inside, Stiles kept walking across the room and flopped down on the couch, hoping the other two would follow him and stop being quite so wolfy at each other with the staring.

No such luck. Neither Derek or Scott moved further than needed for everyone to be in the apartment and for Derek to shut the door behind them. Nor were either of them speaking. 

Stiles was on the verge of throwing up his hands and exclaiming, "Seriously? You're going to make me start with the babbling to fill awkward silences already?" when Scott finally shook himself and visibly forced himself to relax. He held out a hand to Derek and said, "Welcome back."

Stiles watched Derek's eyebrows go up in surprise as he looked from Scott's face to his offered hand and back. It still took long enough for Stiles to mentally count to five before Derek lifted his own hand and accepted the handshake with a muttered, "Thanks."

The tension level of all three of them seemed to lessen at that and Stiles let out a covert sigh of relief. He wasn't a werewolf and didn't have the wolfy instincts of the other two, but he didn't need them to figure out that a handshake offered and accepted between two werewolves required a great deal more trust than it did for humans, what with the ability to instantly sprout claws and all. Trust Scott to use such a human gesture to say something more profound than any traditional werewolf greeting he could've possibly used.

Now that the ritual greeting and not offering to fight each other had happened, both Scott and Derek drifted over to where Stiles was sitting and joined him. 

"Good trip?" Scott asked as he sat down beside Stiles. 

Derek paused for a split second as he was lowering himself into the chair opposite as if he was surprised by that question as well. Stiles wondered half seriously if Derek was going to continue to be surprised by everything Scott said that wasn't an actual challenge or ultimatum. Which, okay, given past history, there was some justification for.

"Yes," Derek replied as he finally settled into the chair's cushions. "It... helped. After everything." 

"I'm glad, really," Scott said with all his Scott-like earnestness that Derek, judging by the slightly confused look on his face, wasn't sure how to take directed at him. "We all hoped it would." Scott paused before adding, "I wasn't sure you were even coming back when you left."

The corner of Derek's mouth quirked up just a little bit, the Derek Hale equivalent of a sardonic smirk, Stiles thought. "Neither was I."

"Stiles said you said you felt drawn back here...?"

Scott hadn't looked at him when he spoke, but Derek's gaze flicked over to where Stiles sat before he answered. "Yeah. He told me about the Nemeton, but I don't think it's because of that. At least not in the way he was worried about."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked before he could stop himself, leaning forward. They had talked about it the night before, true, but Derek at the time seemed to have dismissed totally the idea that the Nemeton had anything to do with him being pulled back here.

"I've been thinking," Derek said, his gaze once again turning towards Stiles. "Wolves are territorial and even though I'm no longer an alpha, even with everything that's happened here, this was Hale territory, my family's land, my... home, born and bred. Still is at some very basic level, even when I wanted nothing to do with the place. I think... maybe I did sense whatever signal the Nemeton is putting out at that same basic level, but it's not the thing that called me back. I think deep down I recognized the danger and felt the need to come back to fight against it. To protect what was once my family's."

That did fit all the information they currently had and was only vaguely sinister which was a step up from Stiles' own original theory and he would take a lesser amount of sinister any day. "It makes sense," he said, glancing between Scott and Derek as he spoke. He had also noticed how last night Derek had talked in terms of pack and today, in front of Scott, he was talking about territory, and the significance of that was not lost on him.

Scott nodded slowly. "I can't say I'm unhappy about the idea of having someone else on our side when the next round of crazy hits."

"Has anything happened yet?" Derek asked.

"Not yet, not really," Scott replied. "But it's just a matter of time. We can all feel it -- or Stiles, Allison and I can. What we did to find our parents made us more sensitive to it. But the others can sense it a little at least."

"It's like the others just have your normal, average, something bad's about to happen creepy feeling." Stiles gave Derek a half smirk. "You too, it sounds like. For us though it's more like... having the proverbial Sword of Damocles hanging over our heads and not knowing when the thread's going to snap and things are going to get bloody." He barely repressed a shudder at the thought. Deaton had warned them all they would carry a shadow from what they did. He'd failed to mention that it was going to feel like the shadow cast by the actual embodiment of the word MENACE. Stiles and the others had each developed their own individual coping strategies -- they'd had to -- but that didn't mean Stiles didn't freak out whenever he thought about it too long or too closely.

He noticed Derek frowning at him then exchanging concerned glances with Scott and there was just something about it that got his hackles up. A part of him was always hyper aware that he was a plain human operating in a world full of very much more than human and while it scared the piss out of him a lot of the time the last thing he wanted was to be coddled because of it. "Not that I can't handle it," he added pointedly, letting some of his irritation bleed through into his voice, and hey, look. Being irritated always seemed to push any incipient freak outs way back into his subconscious where they belonged.

Scott and Derek exchanged another look and Stiles swore he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions if either of them said anything patronizing. But Scott just sat up straighter and addressed Derek in what was for Scott a formal tone. "There's a place in the pack for you if you want it Derek," he said, "but it isn't mandatory. We'll still be willing to work together if you don't want to join." He hesitated then continued, again all earnest, "I know we've had our share of differences in the past, but I'd like you to join. But if not, that's okay too. Whatever you feel comfortable with."

The look on Derek's face... wasn't so much a look as a blank canvas, Stiles decided. His expression gave absolutely nothing away of what he was thinking or feeling. It was, Stiles thought, very reminiscent of the kind of expression or lack thereof Derek used to habitually wear when they first met him. Only with a much less undertone of glaring now. Finally he stirred, shifting just a little in his seat. "Thank you," he said with something like surprised gratitude. "I'll think about it."

Stiles had been expecting a bit more of an answer than that from Derek on the subject of pack, but it seemed to satisfy Scott who nodded and stood up. "We'll get out of your hair for now then," he said as he started towards the door; Stiles had to scramble to his feet quickly in order to catch up. Scott paused when he slid the door open and looked back at Derek who was still seated watching them. "It really is good to have you back," he said with a hint of that earnest Scott smile and then he was out the door.

Leaving Stiles alone in the loft with a, judging by his expression, extremely bemused Derek. "I'm his ride," Stiles said as he started walking backwards toward the open doorway. "So I gotta..." Even with the door wide open he still managed to run into the frame which cut him off speaking, making him lose his train of thought. "Right," he finished. "I'll just... talk to you later then."

When he got down to the street, he found Scott leaning against the side of his jeep, waiting for him. Stiles unlocked it and they both got in. 

Scott let out his breath in a long sigh and rested his head back against the seat as Stiles started the jeep and pulled out into traffic. "That went a lot better than I was afraid of," he said with a tiny satisfied smile.

Stiles glanced over at him. "You totally thought the two of you were going to end up throwing each other through walls again, didn't you?" 

There was a telling, guilty silence from the other side of the car. "Oh my god, you totally did! You really thought that was going to end in a knock down drag out, teeth and claws, furniture destroying grudge match!" Seriously, was Stiles the only one around who had any confidence that they could manage these things without automatically turning it into a clusterfuck? And what did it say about the state of things when _he_ had to be the optimist?

"Worst case scenario," Scott muttered. "And it's not like you didn't know I was unsure. I told you I was worried I wasn't going to be able to handle it right."

"I didn't realize that meant you thought there'd be a battle royale in the living room. Which, I hasten to point out, there wasn't. So I totally win." 

Scott just grinned at him fondly. "Yeah, you do," he said, which totally took all the fun out of saying 'I told you so' for Stiles. "And you were right about Derek being different too. I don't know if I could put how exactly into words but..."

"He's gone from a thunderstorm of angst to scattered glaring and partially broody," Stiles quipped. He thought he could pinpoint some of the difference though from what Derek had told him the night before about the whole Alpha thing. He wasn't forced to try being something he really didn't want to be any more. That would lighten up anybody.

He glanced over at Scott, before venturing, "I have to admit, we were out of there a lot faster than I thought we'd be. Especially when things seemed to be going so well."

"I didn't want to push my luck," Scott admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I didn't want Derek to think I was pressuring him for an immediate answer or anything. I think we've all had enough of the whole be in my pack or else thing."

Stiles snorted. "Dude, you are so far from an 'or else' kind of Alpha it's not even a dot in the rear view mirror."

"Yeah, but still..."

"I get it," Stiles told him, taking a hand off the steering wheel long enough to clap Scott on the shoulder. "We're Pack Free Will. That's what makes us so awesome." He tried to ignore the fact that he was suddenly picturing Derek in a trench coat...

Scott just rolled his eyes. But when he spoke again it was with that trademark Scott earnestness. "Thanks for not taking no for an answer about coming along. It... helped, having you there."

"You're welcome," Stiles replied. "But you could've handled it alone. I just didn't want to miss what's sure to go down as a pivotal moment in the history of Pack Free Will."

"Dude, would you stop calling us that?"

"But it fits us so well," Stiles protested, really getting going. "What should I call us instead? I mean I suppose we could go with Pack Teen Angst though that's really a downer however much truth it has. Plus it would probably make Derek feel out of place though god knows he has enough angst for any dozen normal teenagers-"

"Stiles!" Scott yelled, stopping him before he could get up a real head of steam. "It's just the Pack, okay? We know who we are. We don't need a name."

Stiles was of the private opinion that they really really did, if only to make them sound cool, but who was he to argue with the true Alpha? 

******

Stiles dropped Scott off back at his motorcycle, then drove himself home. He ate dinner with his Dad and did his homework and then, when his Dad went off to work for the night shift, Stiles got into his jeep and drove back to Derek's loft.

Just like the night before, Derek opened the door before Stiles had a chance to knock, but at least this time Stiles didn't overreact with a weapon and everything. Mostly because he'd left the bat in the jeep, but still. It counted.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "So is it because Scott's an Alpha now that you'll actually let him knock first or do you just take some kind of perverse pleasure in trying to make me have a heart attack on your threshold?"

Derek actually seemed to think that over. "Both," he finally replied, deadpan before turning and walking back into the loft, leaving the door open for Stiles to follow.

Which Stiles did, pausing only to shut it behind him before crossing the room and flopping down on the couch in the same spot he'd been earlier.

Derek didn't sit down, just stood by the side of the couch and looked down at him. It wasn't quite a Derek Hale glare, but it was more intense than idly curious. Finally he sighed and asked, "Why are you here, Stiles?"

"Because I was wondering something and I figured I'd just go to the source and ask," Stiles replied stretching out against the couch cushions. "Y'know this couch is really a lot more comfortable than it looks. Or that I'd expect of a couch you own. Don't know if I've told you that before."

"It came with the loft." Of course it did. Which meant that Stiles could stop trying to wrap his brain around the idea of Derek Hale actually furniture shopping because that had been a mental picture that just did not compute. "Please tell me you didn't come over here to ask me about my couch."

"Nah, I'm not that hung up on interior decorating. Not that that should be news -- you've seen my room after all."

The look on Derek's face was beginning to edge into familiar Derek Hale glare territory now, probably because of the way his eyebrows were frowning. "Stiles."

Okay, maybe he really should get to the point before Derek reached the growly stage. "I was wondering why you didn't just say yes when Scott offered you a place in the pack," he said.

He was watching closely so caught the super brief flash of guilty surprise that crossed Derek's features before his 'I'm not showing emotions' facade came crashing down. "That's not how it's done," he replied finally.

"No? Because when the red eyes were on the other wolf, and you were trying to get Scott to join your pack, you seemed to want it to work that way a whole lot."

"It didn't work though did it?" Derek's tone was getting a little sharp, like he couldn't completely maintain the calm demeanour he was trying to. "Scott never agreed to join my pack, not for real."

"Yeah, well that's Scott. And I think the whole idea of packs kinda freaked him out a little after Peter spent months trying to make him join his pack by forcing him to kill everybody he cared about so a lot of that was just really bad timing on your part. Though admittedly, he's never been much of a follower ever, which I guess makes sense if the whole true Alpha thing's been there under the surface all along." Stiles leaned forward and looked at Derek with the most serious expression he could muster. "But we're not talking about why Scott said no, we're talking about you, and Scott's hangups are not your hangups. Do you want to join the pack, Derek?"

Derek just clenched his jaw silently for a long moment. "It's not that simple," he finally said.

"Seems pretty simple to me," Stiles replied, spreading his hands. "Scott asks the question, you give a yes or a no as an answer. I'm not sure where are the complications are, dude."

"The complications come later when people change their minds on what they wanted."

Stiles frowned. "You think you're going to change you mind about being in the pack?"

Derek shook his head. "Not me. Scott."

Stile found himself almost doing a double take at that. "You think _Scott_ is going to change his mind? And what? Decide to kick you out because he's made a mistake or something?"

Derek's silence was telling.

Wonderful. In his best reassuring voice, Stiles said, "Derek, that's not going to happen."

"You can't know that," Derek protested.

"I can know that," Stiles argued. "I can know that because I know Scott. I told you, I've known him since kindergarten, he's my best friend. He wouldn't do that. Yeah, you and he have had your issues in the past, many, many issues, but he wouldn't ask you if he didn't really want you to join. Hell, he was agonizing about asking you almost as much as he did about his first date with Allison. He wants the two of you to get along."

Derek still did not look convinced so Stiles threw his hands up in the air. Stubborn werewolf was stubborn. "He wants you in the pack because he likes you, you idiot. Somehow, against our better judgement, we all like you. So even if Scott did lose his mind and try to take back the offer, I wouldn't let him."

"You wouldn't let him," Derek repeated, giving him skeptical eyebrows.

"Damn straight. Don't sound so disbelieving. Like I said, best friend since kindergarten. I am the Scott whisperer. Him being an Alpha doesn't change that."

"Because you like me."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes, I like you. What aren't you understanding? I'd try to explain with smaller words but that's like, eight letters total. I'm not sure I can go any smaller. So let me sum up and see if that helps. Yes, Scott likes you and wants you in the pack. I like you and want you in the pack, though my opinion probably doesn't matter much in the larger scheme of things, me being human and all. But the opinion that matters most really is yours. So would you just answer the fucking question with a yes or no answer: Do you want to join the pack?"

He held his breath, hoping he's actually get a straight answer out of Derek this time. He was more used to throwing sarcasm at the guy, not trying to reassure him. It felt... weird. 

Derek was silent for so long that Stiles was about convinced he wasn't going to answer at all, but before he could do anything about it, Derek finally bit out a "Yes."

 _Finally._ "Well then, that settles that," Stiles said brightly. "Scott wants you in his pack, you want into the pack, sounds like a done deal." He could see the uncertainty still in Derek's expression and held up a hand, partially to stop him from speaking, partially to represent vow taking. "Dude, I promise, this won't turn out to be something that comes back to bite you." _Like pretty much everything else in your life has._ It wasn't like Stiles didn't understand where Derek's uncertainty was coming from. "I won't let it."

Derek gave him a long, intense, searching look, then nodded, his body relaxing some of the tension he'd been carrying since they started this topic. "I believe you."

"Good. I'll let Scott know tomorrow and you guys can shake hands or sniff butts or whatever it is you need to do to make it official." Having gotten his way and not wanting to wear out his welcome, Stiles started to stand up, intending to leave before he could start annoying Derek.

"Is that the only reason you came over tonight?" Derek asked. "To badger me into joining the pack?"

Stiles paused halfway to a standing position, tilting his head to look up at Derek. "Yes?"

"You're sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," Stiles said, sitting back down again since it appeared they weren't done here as much as he thought they were. "Or at least if I have any ulterior motives I forgot to tell myself about them. Why? What other reason do you think I have?"

Derek just looked at him and said, "The Sword of Damocles."

Stiles was suddenly grateful he'd already sat back down because that would probably have made his legs a little more unsteady than was probably safe. "That's not why I'm here," he said in an as even and controlled tone as he could manage.

"The Nemeton inspired feeling of impending doom isn't why you're so insistent I join the pack?" Derek asked with raised eyebrows.

And he had him there. Stiles couldn't deny that, not entirely. "It's not the only reason. It's not even the main reason. But yes," he let his breath out in a sigh of surrender, "The giant feeling of MENACE that is currently breathing on the back of my neck is a factor. Stronger as a pack, right?"

Derek didn't answer, just continued to stare at Stiles in a way that was uncomfortably knowing. "When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?" he asked, confirming that he was seeing more than Stiles had wanted to show.

"I don't know, when was the last time there was a decent night?" he quipped. Verbal duck and dodge was so ingrained by now he didn't even have to think to do it.

"Stiles." Derek's tone sounded way too much like Stiles' Dad when he'd had enough of Stiles' verbal acrobatics. Stiles could almost hear Dad's firm _'Just answer the damn question'_ that usually followed.

It was the tone of voice that was most likely to get Stiles to cave and it seemed to work just as well coming from Derek as it did his Dad. "It's been a while," he admitted, shoulders slumping as he gave in.

"Define a while," Derek ordered.

Stiles just shrugged, not sure if he even could. Nights where he could fall into bed and sleep straight through until morning with no nightmares were so rare he would be hard pressed to remember the last one. It didn't matter though. He managed to get enough sleep to get by even if it was broken and plagued with bad dreams. And in the times he couldn't sleep, he prepared -- researching anything and everything he could think of or driving his jeep around late at night looking for any sign that the impending bad things had started.

Derek sighed and sat down beside him, startling Stiles. "That's what I thought. So what would help?"

Stiles just blinked for a moment as that was close to the last thing he expected. "I don't know," he said, startled into honesty. "I've tried... well pretty much everything. Nothing's made any noticeable difference so now I just deal." 

Derek frowned, but it was more of a thinking deep thoughts kind of frown and less of a 'you deeply irritate and annoy me and what is my life that I have to deal with you' kind. Stiles would know. He got the latter directed his way a lot. "Is it just the whole impending doom thing?"

"That's keeping me from sleeping? Pretty sure there's also some PTSD stuff mixed in, but yeah, pretty much."

"I can keep watch," Derek said.

"Huh?" Stiles said intelligently.

"While you sleep," Derek explained, slightly awkwardly. "You're afraid something horrible's going to happen when you let your guard down; I can keep watch for anything like that while you sleep."

It wasn't a bad suggestion, although it certainly was a surprising one considering the source. "I'm not sure that will appease my subconscious," he finally said regretfully, after mulling it over. "It's pretty dedicated to the whole night terror thing."

"Stiles." Derek caught and held his gaze with a serious expression. "If the thread breaks, I'll catch the sword before it can fall. I promise."

And wow, he really meant that, Stiles thought, staring back at Derek. And wonder of wonders, the ever present jangly sinking feeling in his chest seemed to actually calm slightly at his promise. "Okay," he finally said, letting his breath out in a sigh as he gave in. "Wouldn't hurt to give it a try at least."

He could actually feel Derek relax at that, he was sitting so close that the ease of tension was evident to even his non-werewolf senses. "Good. It probably would work better if you were at home, but we can try it here if you'd rather-"

"Now?" Stiles stared at Derek wide-eyed. 

"Gives you less time to come up with a reason not to try it," Derek replied as if that was obvious and yeah, okay, he had to give him that. It probably was, Stiles had met himself after all.

"Right." Stiles ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he stood up. He could do this. The worst thing that could happen would be he woke up screaming in terror and it's not like that wasn't something that happened on a pretty regular basis already. Granted, he wasn't usually doing it in front of big bad wolf Derek Hale, but he'd done plenty of other embarrassing things in front of Derek and Derek was offering so... Right. "Do you want a ride with me or are you going to just werewolf your way over...?"

Derek's eyebrows climbed at that. "I could just _drive_ over. In my car."

Right. "Or you could do that," Stiles agreed. He started backing up towards the door. "So I'll just meet you there then...?"

Derek was moving past him, grabbing up his leather jacket that had been hanging on some hooks by the door, which were they new? Stiles couldn't remember if he'd seen them before or not. "I'll ride with you," Derek said as he shrugged into his jacket.

"O-kay...." Stile said slowly. "What happened to driving over in your own car? Afraid I'll make a break for it or something?"

The pointed silence and equally pointed look was answer enough.

"Oh come on!" Stiles complained. "Really? Isn't that a bit much? I _live_ there. That's where all my stuff is. And my Dad. I kinda have to go there. Eventually."

"The fact that you added the word eventually makes my case for me," Derek pointed out dryly. "Now come on," he said, putting a hand on the back of Stiles' neck and manhandling him toward the door. Hey, just like old times! "Quit stalling and let's go."

"I'm not stalling!" Stiles grabbed onto the door frame to stop himself and turn and glare at Derek. Who just raised his eyebrows and pointedly looked at Stiles' hand holding on for dear life. "Point," Stiles sighed, and let go, and even let Derek steer him out the door and into motion. "Why all the rush?" he asked as they headed down to the street. "I mean it's just a few nightmares and bouts of insomnia. We're not talking something that's life and death here.."

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Derek asked. 

They reached the front door and walked out onto the street. Stiles started leading the way towards his jeep without being prodded. "Yes? Is that supposed to be a trick question?"

"You look terrible."

Stiles made a face. "Gee, thanks. You're such a boon to my self esteem. Don't know what I ever did when you were gone."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it that way, idiot. I mean you look _haunted_."

"Probably because I am!" Stiles blurted out, which whoa was something that probably should've been kept firmly inside his head because yeah. No one needed to know how fucked up he was. Really.

He was spared from having to say anything more right away by them reaching the jeep. He unlocked the passenger door for Derek then slid in behind the wheel. Derek got in without saying anything and stayed quiet as Stiles started the engine and pulled out onto the road. And Stiles knew him well enough that he knew Derek probably wouldn't say anything else until Stiles started speaking again.

They were about halfway to his house before the silence got to be too much for him. He let a breath out and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Okay, yeah. I'm messed up. I freely admit it. But I'm handling it. Really. And it's not like I'm the only one. Scott and Allison did the whole surrogate sacrifice, permanent heart of darkness thing too."

"But you're not all affected the same way." It wasn't a question.

"I don't know," Stiles admitted. "As much as we talk about it, we can't actually see inside each other's head. We don't know if we're feeling the exact same thing. But we're all feeling something." They were all handling it too. Each finding their own way to deal -- Allison throwing herself into training with her Dad and Scott throwing himself into being the best Alpha he could be. Stiles didn't have those outlets so obsessive research, late night patrolling and giving up on sleep as much as he could was having to suffice.

Which apparently was making him look so terrible that _Derek Hale_ , poster wolf for the emotionally constipated, was following him home to tuck him in and stand watch. Worse, Stiles didn't even totally hate the idea.

And he really should mention that, he thought. "But you're right," he said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Derek as he spoke. "In as far as I wouldn't say no to a good night's sleep. It probably won't help with the whole," he waved one hand in the air in an all encompassing gesture, "y'know, haunted thing, but it would still be nice to get. So you can stop bullying me into doing this. I'm willing to give it a try."

Derek seemed to relax at that, at least Stiles thought he did. He didn't actually see him move in any way, but Stiles could just feel a lessening of the tension in the jeep, like Derek had been putting out uptight pheromones and just now stopped. "Good," he said with a nod and then subsided into silence for the rest of the trip.

Which was actually more typical of the Derek Stiles remembered than a lot of how he'd been acting since he got back so it was actually kinda soothing? Familiar at any rate. 

Stiles let the silence stand for most of the rest of the drive, but started talking again when he turned onto his street. "Just so we're clear, you're not going to climb into my window. You're going to use the front door like a normal person. You're really good at being sneaky, granted, but one of these times the neighbor's going to look out at just the wrong moment and then I'm going to have to do a whole elaborate song and dance when they call 911 about a B and E next door. Besides, Dad's working nights right now so no one's home. And he knows about everything anyway so you can use the front door even if he _was_ home."

"I wasn't actually planning on going through the window," Derek said mildly.

"Oh. Right." He paused as he pulled into his driveway. "Sorry. Guess I'm just used to you being all lurky and anti-social."

He expected a classic Derek Hale glare at that but what he got was a deadpan, "Grr, argh."

Stiles stared. "Did you just make a Buffy joke?"

Derek just smirked in response and got out of the jeep. 

Stiles followed a moment later, shaking his head. This was a side of Derek he hadn't seen before, but he could definitely grow to like it.

Once inside the house, Stiles hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. "So, do you want to try this now?" he asked awkwardly. "Or we can watch a movie or something for a while -- I can make popcorn-"

"It's getting late," Derek interrupted, his voice far gentler than Stiles would have expected. "Why don't we save the movie for another time."

"Right." He took a deep breath to steal himself and then started up the stairs. Behind him he could hear Derek following and he must've been making noise deliberately because lord knew every werewolf Stiles had met could move creepy quiet without even thinking about it. And that went double for Derek.

Stiles opened the door to his room with a flourish, making a welcoming gesture as he did so. "Make yourself at home," he said as Derek followed him inside. "I'm just gonna grab a shower and change."

Derek nodded his understanding, eyes darting around the room in a way that probably should have made Stiles nervous, but for some reason didn't. Stiles grabbed a clean t-shirt and pyjama bottoms and headed to the bathroom.

He showered quickly, got dressed and headed back to his room to find Derek staring at the Wall of Research.

Derek glanced over at him as he stepped into the room. "You've been busy," he observed dryly.

"Yeah, well...." Stiles shrugged. "Scott alphas, Alison hunts, Stiles researches. It's kinda my thing."

Derek turned back to the wall. "You're good at it." He actually sounded impressed, which is not something Stiles ever thought he'd hear directed his way from Derek.

"To be fair," he said, walking over to stand beside Derek and regard the Wall himself, "about half of this is from past research of the Oh Shit We're Going To Die variety. It's just that now that my Dad knows I don't have to hide all of it. And putting it all up there, it helps me think. See things, make connections I might've missed otherwise."

"What does he think of all this?" Derek asked curiously.

"Dad? Some weird combination of impressed and worried. He makes me use him as a sounding board sometimes which is kinda cool even if him knowing how dangerous the shit I've been dealing with is makes both of us twitchy."

"Do you wish he didn't know?"

"No." There was no doubt in Stiles about that. "I'll take being twitchy any day over having to lie to him all the time. And... it helps. Him knowing." It was weird -- his Dad knowing made him feel safer at the same time he freaked out about the added potential danger it put his Dad in.

"Good," Derek said and Stiles nodded then surprised himself with a yawn.

"Huh," he said. "Guess I'm more tired than I thought." Nowadays he was _always_ exhausted, but he'd gotten used to it enough that it was usually much later before his body started demanding sleep.

"There's a cure for that," Derek said and pointed at Stiles' bed.

"Nice to see you can still get your bossy wolf on when you want to," Stiles said, but followed the hinted at order nonetheless, climbing into bed and squirming around until he was as comfortable as he was going to get.

Derek had crossed over and was standing by the light switch. He moved to turn it off but hesitated. "Do you want...?"

Stiles hesitated. He had lately, when he'd been sleeping at all, been sleeping with the lights on, but.... "You're gonna stay?"

"Yes." The answer was immediate and firm.

"Then yeah, you can turn 'em off."

Derek looked at him for a moment then nodded and did so, plunging the room into darkness.

Stiles stared at his shadowy ceiling for a long moment, listening to the quiet rustling sounds of Derek moving around -- sounds that he knew Derek had to be making deliberately because he was very familiar with how quiet werewolves in general -- and this werewolf in particular -- could move when they wanted.

His eyes adjusted as much as they were going to and Stiles turned onto his side so he could scan the room. The shadowy forms he could see were familiar, but still managed to feel a little... sinister to Stiles. At least until he glanced at the far corner, where Derek had settled himself into a chair. Stiles could tell this because Derek's bright blue werewolf eyes were shining in the darkness.

It said a lot about Stiles' life that that was the thing that Stiles found comforting. 

*****

Sunlight was pouring through the window leaving its bright patch on the floor when Stiles blinked himself awake.

"Good morning."

Stiles flicked his gaze to the corner of the room where Derek was sitting in the same chair he'd been the night before when Stiles had fallen asleep. 

Huh. He'd _fallen asleep_. Pretty easily actually and not only that, but he'd stayed asleep -- deeply and apparently peacefully because as far as he could tell there hadn't been any nightmares. The last thing he remembered until he'd woke up a moment ago was Derek's werewolf eyes acting like a night light. He'd slept the entire night through. Undisturbed.

And that? That was a freaking _miracle_.

"Yeah." He felt his lips turning upwards in what was probably a wondering smile. "I think it is."

He rolled over onto his back and stretched lazily. "God, that was the best sleep I've had in _ages_."

"Good," Derek said, sounding satisfied, maybe even a little smug and Stiles couldn't blame him if he did.

"Gotta admit," Stiles said as he sat up, leaning against the headboard, "I didn't expect that would work. On paper, having you do your best Edward Cullen creeper impression all night should've just made it even harder to get to sleep. But apparently you've been a creeper so much that my subconscious actually finds it _comforting_. Go figure."

Derek rolled his eyes. "It's called being on watch, Stiles, not being a creeper. It would only be being a creeper if you didn't know I was there."

Stiles gaped at him. "Oh my god. You've actually put thought into where the threshold between vaguely creepy and outright creeper is." He frowned. "I can't decide if that's sad or if it's actual character development."

That earned him another eye rolls and Derek standing up and heading... away from the door.

"And now you're going to leave via my window. Dude, didn't we have this conversation last night? We have actual doors that you are actually allowed to use. And yet you're still heading for my window, for, what? Old times' sake?"

"Yes." Derek smirked at him before turning his attention back to opening the window.

He was halfway out it before Stiles found his voice again. "Derek?" Derek paused, one leg in and one leg out. "Thanks."

"No problem," Derek replied, after searching Stiles' face for a long moment. "Any time. After all, we're pack, aren't we?" And he shot Stiles an honest to goodness full on _smile_ before disappearing out the window leaving Stiles staring after him, mouth hanging open.

After a minute, Stiles began smiling too. Because yes, they _were_ pack and Stiles was beginning to think, beginning to believe, that this was going to be the difference. That somehow Derek coming back and officially aligning himself with them was the missing piece, that pushed this whole thing to a different level. 

Or maybe he had just really missed Derek. Either way, Stiles was feeling light years better than he had two days ago. 

It wasn't that he didn't still feel that doom was hanging over their heads like a sword on a thread. It's just that now he was starting to believe if -- when -- the thread broke, they weren't going to be impaled.

They were going to freaking _catch it_.


End file.
